


Wide Awake

by thecompletebookworm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle Remembers, F/M, season 1 rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3973486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecompletebookworm/pseuds/thecompletebookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>According to Regina, Margie French lives a decent life in Storybrooke.  She helps her father run the family flower shop and works part time at the Storybrooke Mirror.  In reality, Margie French is just a fairytale.   Belle has no idea what’s really going on, but the voice in her head certainly seems wrongs.  She’s definitely never seen Storybrooke before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

There was a loud clanging noise.  Belle ignored it.  It was only another one of the prisoners banging something against the bars.  It wasn’t a feeding day.  There had been a watery bowl of gruel yesterday.  She curled into a tighter ball.  It would go away if she just ignored it.  

But the noise was persistent.  She opened her eyes. 

Everything was wrong.  There was no other way to explain it.  All right, the room was a drastic improvement over her prison cell, but the pastel walls were definitely not right.  There were pictures on the wall of someone who looked suspiciously like her, but she knew wasn’t.  Belle had never owned outfits like that. They were outrageously short.  Papa would have a fit.  Belle also didn’t recognize the people in the photos. A woman with dark hair short enough to be a boy.  A different woman with a fondness for red so strong parts of her hair were dyed a bright shape. 

Belle heard footsteps and quickly feigned sleep.  The footsteps approached her bed and it took years of practice to keep her body from stiffening.  The loud noise stopped. 

A deep voice chuckled.  “Margie, what am I going to do with you?”   It was light hearted and more carefree than she had heard it in years.  But she recognized it. 

Papa, Belle thought.  Her Papa was here, close enough to touch.  She wanted to reach up, grab him and hope he would make everything better.  But even her Papa seemed wrong.  He had called her Margie. 

 _That’s because it’s your name._ A small voice in the back of her head whispered.  Belle ignored it. 

“Margie, you have a meeting with Mayor Mills regarding the story on her reelection this morning.  You need to get up.”  Her Papa gently shook her shoulder. 

“I got it Dad. I’m awake.”  The words did not come from her mouth, well they did, but Belle had absolutely no control of them.  

Papa,  _Dad,_ gave her a smile before leaving the room.  He was dressed plainly in a white shirt and pants of some blue material ( _Jeans._ The voice in her head added.) 

Even though Belle knew she had never been here before, she got off the bed and walked purposefully to the closet.  Belle grabbed one of the nicer dresses and opened the 2nd drawer of a nearby dresser to pull out undergarments.  It was almost like she knew. 

_Margie, you’re acting silly._

There it was, the voice in her head.  It sounded angry. 

_Get dressed.   Grab your bag and go meet the Mayor.  You still don’t know why she trusted you to write the article as opposed to Sidney._

Belle had learned a good deal about magic living in the castle.  She had found all sorts of books, but Rumplestiltskin also would let her watch his experiments occasionally.  Magic was strange and at least what she had seen of it very precise.  It had to be overwhelmingly powerful magic to have it have any effect on her mind.  

_Magic, Margie?  You need coffee._

Belle sighed.  As dangerous as it seemed, she would just have to follow the little voice’s advice.  After all, she had no idea how to interact with these people. 

Belle walked down the street briskly.  She reminded herself she couldn’t stare at anything.  No one else was staring.  The voice in her head was making her sound like she was crazy for even wanting to observe her surroundings. 

_You’ve lived here your whole life.  Nothing’s ever going to change._

Belle took a deep breath.  She just wanted the voice to shut up.  It was giving her a headache.   

_Maybe you should just call Sidney and tell him you’re sick.  You’ll see what the Mayor wants and then you go home._

Belle couldn’t help but feel relieved at that thought.  She had no idea who Sidney was but at least she would be able to sort things out without so many people around. 

Belle sped up her walking tempo.   She could do this.  She turned the corner, half absorbed in glancing at a passing  _car_ , which was like a carriage but had no horses.  She bumped into someone, his gold cane falling to the grown. 

“I would think you would know to watch where you were going.”  The man’s voice was harsh but she would know it anywhere.  Belle had spent her hours of loneliness memorizing every detail about her true love.  It wasn’t his high-pitched maniac persona he put on for clients.  It was much more similar to how he spoke as he spun on the wheel. 

Belle bent to retrieve the cane.  She ignored every one of the voice’s fervent pleas to  _Run! Mr. Gold! He can’t be trusted._   Instead she smiled.  It felt good to smile again. 

The man who was her Rumple but wasn’t looked shocked.  He eyed her suspiciously.

“I am sorry, Mr. Gold.  I have no idea what came over me.  I’m not usually this clumsy.” 

Her Rumplestiltskin would have made a quip about ladders and she would have blushed, but this was not her Rumplestiltskin.  Whatever was affecting her mind was affecting his too.  He had no idea who she was and after waiting so long to see him again, that made her want to cry. 


	2. Steps Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle finds excuses to visit the pawnshop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still Pre-Emma

Belle felt the smile grow on her face.  She didn’t get to do this very often.  It wasn’t quite safe.  Regina liked to keep a close eye on the town.  And Belle knew Regina liked to keep a particular close eye on Rumplestiltskin.  They were rivals in this new world as well as their own.    That did not change despite the fact Rumple did not know who he was. 

Still there were days that were safe for Belle to browse his shop.  It was mainly his collection from the Dark Castle.  She had dusted it countless times (or at least pretended to dust as she read pages of the book she had strategically placed on the counter).  There were a few items that she didn’t recognize but that was to be expected.  She had been locked away for some time. 

_No.  You weren’t.  You haven’t been anywhere.  You don’t even know the man._

Belle tried to maintain her composure as she continued to walk toward his shop.  She wasn’t about to let the curse ruin this moment.   It always acted up when she wanted to do something Margie never would. 

  _You’re Margie._

Belle stifled a groan.  The headache was growing.  A few more steps and the voice would just start chanting the name over and over again. 

Just a little further.  She had to at least see him today.  That really wasn’t asking much. 

Belle wasn’t sure why she could remember her past life.  She had no magic and had been imprisoned at the time the curse was cast. 

Her knowledge wasn’t like that of Jefferson’s, an old acquaintance of Rumple’s.  She had found him on one of her explorations, hidden away in the woods, forced to watch his daughter be happy without him. 

Belle wished she were in the same boat as Jefferson.  She would happily watch Rumple live out his happy ending without her.  She wanted happiness for him, even if it wasn’t with her. 

Instead, Belle was stuck with a half-broken curse that allowed her to remember but also allowed her curse personality to torment her.  

Belle rubbed her necklace, calming almost instantly.  True Love was always worth fighting for.   She pushed open the door to the shop.  

“Back again.”  The man barked at her from behind the counter.

Belle bit her lip.  She hated seeing him like this.  He was a shell of the man he once was, a shell created by the woman who hated him the most.  “I don’t see why you have a problem with customers.” 

“I don’t have a problem with paying customers.” 

“Good thing I have money then.” 

Gold huffed and Belle went back to looking around the shop.  She had always left with something. The duster. A favorite book from his collection.  Her Mother’s jewelry. 

Rumplestiltskin was just as much a hoarder here.  He was a dragon, hating to be parted from his treasures.  So naturally he disliked her.  Belle tried to ignore the taste that left in her mouth. 

_You shouldn’t care that he hates you.  Gold’s an awful spiteful man who doesn’t care about anything but money.  Leave before he raises the rent on the flower shop._

Belle glanced covertly back at the man in question.  He was still just as pleasing to the eye.  He still tugged on his hair when he was trying to concentrate and he thought no one was looking. Gold handled the artifact with the same level of care Rumplestiltskin would have.  

She knew her Rumple was in there somewhere.  It was only a question of when she got to see him again. 


	3. Waiting

Belle tried not to feel resentful as she sat in the booth at Granny’s.

Ruby was arguing with Rumplestiltskin ( _Mr Gold_ ) over his meal. He appeared to be winning.

It wasn’t that she missed his piercing remarks whenever she tried to make a point. Or the giggling he would try when he knew he was losing and wanted to unsettle her.

_That’s ridiculous. Mr Gold does not giggle._

Belle nearly slammed her ice tea on the table. Yes she missed arguing with him. It was pointless denying it. She missed being alone in her own head. She missed her papa despite the fact she still lived with him.

There were times when Belle felt like it was just too much. This world was strange and convoluted. Too many flashing lights. Too many people half recognizable, but still unreachable.

But all curses are meant to be broken.

There was a faint ring of the bell as Belle watched her true love walk away from her again. He used his cane to maneuver out the door and down to the street. She held her breath as he navigated the one crack in the sidewalk that always gave him trouble.

_That’s creepy. How do you even know that? Or even care?_

Belle turned quickly away from the window as his car rolled away. She shouldn’t be caught staring. Word always got around.

She grabbed the article that she had “written” some eight times now. Belle practically had the thing memorized. But still in this world, what the Queen wanted, the Queen got. At least for the time being.


	4. Collecting Rent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Gold's perspective: He collects the rent.

Gold hated mornings.  He hated rent mornings even more.  No one ever seemed to be ready with anything but excuses.  

He pushed open the door to Game of Thrones, trying to look intimidating despite his cane.  He could already tell it was going to be one of those really long days. His knee already ached.  The scent of flowers was completely overpowering.  Gold wrinkled his nose.  He had always hated flowers.  Gold wanted out of this disgusting shop. 

There was no one at the counter.  He rang the little bell.  This was ridiculous.  They knew he was coming.  It was always the same, 2ndand 4th Thursday of the month. 

“Sorry,” the florist’s daughter came running forward from the back of the shop. “I’ll have the money for you in a second, Mr. Gold.”  She blushed a vibrant red as she gathered the money from the safe.  

He could only imagine what she had been doing in the back room.  He hadn’t seen the buffoon of the shop hand anywhere. 

Margie forced the money into the hand not holding his cane.  She purposefully wrapped his fingers around the wad of cash, allowing her hand to linger on top of his.  

Gold tried to ignore the feeling that left in his stomach.  He knew the girl had always been tactile.  She would occasionally walk down Main Street running her fingertips along the wall the entire way.  She would run and nearly tackle Ruby on a near basis whenever she was in Granny’s.  No he hadn’t been watching her.  Gold did not spy.  He merely enjoyed the scenery a good deal more with her in it.  

 “Thank you,” He forced himself to count the money lazily.  He couldn’t afford to think any more about her, especially not in this shop.  There were too many roses.  She might get the wrong impression. 

For as much as he enjoyed Margie French’s company when Sidney assigned her a news article featuring him or when they casually ran into each other around town, Gold wasn’t looking for love. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently reposting this from Tumblr (from October). So if it looks vaguely familiar, that could be why.


End file.
